A little info: parchment is made from animal skin, not plants. That's why it's always described as "heavy" and "yellowish" in the books.
I was just bored when I wrote this. Comment if you want a third chapter.
Lucius had seen the Backcarrows' daughter before. The father produced a good parchment that Lucius liked to use for special contracts and letters, and had even commissioned his family tree to be drawn and written on an especially large piece of vellum from Mr Backcarrow's stock. He knew the girl was a Squib (how embarrassing for the Backcarrow's!), and that she was around fourteen or fifteen years old. On the days he'd come in the past, she could be seen toiling away in the vast garden or performing some other menial chore out of doors. He'd never seen her inside the house, only the large barn and smaller sheds, but never where her father made his parchments. Never.
She would not talk to Lucius, nor did she look him in the eye very often, but she'd give him a small wave or a little smile if he bothered to acknowledge her. He'd often seen the girl herding the small flock of sheep her father owned, along with the fewer goats her father sometimes used. Other times, she could be seen in the meadow that bordered her family's cottage with the cows and calves. All of this was why Lucius had come today.
Mrs Backcarrow and her husband welcomed him inside, offering tea and biscuits (the wife actually baked quite good), and wondering aloud what could have brought him on a surprise visit.
"Well—I suppose I shall get straight to it—I wanted to ask about your daughter."
Mr and Mrs Backcarrow stared at him. The girl's father sat with a grim, stony expression; the mother, who'd been tending the fire as it had grown too hot, looked as though she wanted to turn to the wall and avoid Lucius's gaze, but she held herself still.
"I apologize—I realize what a delicate question that could be; it's just that . . . well, I've finally put some money into sheep—at least this year—some of my father's undeveloped land is finally being put to use."
"Oh!" said Mrs Backcarrow in a strained voice, "How wonderful for you!"
Lucius smiled at her, "Thank you, ma'am. Now, as to the girl: You see, I've a very big problem with this new venture: I have no shepherd!"
"Oh. . ." said Mrs Backcarrow again; she seemed to have caught on. Her husband, however, remained hard-faced and impassive.
"I've only got the one house elf—Dobby—otherwise I'd send one out to the pasture, but it seems I'll be needing an extra hand. . ."
Mr Backcarrow's eyes didn't leave Lucius's.
"I know she takes care of your stock. I hope you don't think I expect simply to take her and put her to work without considering yourselves! In fact—" lucius leaned forward slightly, looking directly at Mr Backcarrow, "—I think I've a proposal you'll find quite intriguing. . ."
*
Angelus watched his Squib cousin examine the old ewe; it had wandered off alone and lain in the grass all morning. Something wasn't right with it, and his older cousin sat before the ewe to examine its teeth and eyes.
"She okay?" He asked, expecting his cousin to nod or shake her head; she wasn't allowed to talk very much, though Angelus liked her well enough—he was eight years old and preferred playing out of doors, and as his Squib cousin was the one most often in the places he liked best, he'd developed a special fondness for her.
His cousin sat back and sighed loudly. Then she looked at him and, with a shake of her head said, "Nay. She's too old."
Angelus understood she meant the ewe was going to die.
Another reason he liked being with his Squib cousin was that she knew a lot about outside things, and those were the subjects she would talk to him about. Most of the time though, she simply let him follow her as she worked with the animals or went about foraging. She had different whistles to tell him "Come over here, I've found something interesting!" or "Oi! Get away from there—it's dangerous!" She couldn't perform any magic, but Angelus thought his Squib cousin rather compelling; nobody else spoke to him through whistles! He still couldn't get those whistles right, but he tried every chance he got!
From across the meadow, they heard someone shout, "Oi! Girl!"
Both Angelus and his cousin stared in the direction the shout had come from, then exchanged glances: they recognized Angelus's uncle's harsh voice. His cousin lay the Ewe's head back down and stood up, and little Angelus copied her. He ran after her across the pasture to the edge of his aunt and uncle's yard, where they stood with a man Angelus did not know. His cousin stopped several feet from her father (Angelus always reminded himself that he was never to call his uncle his Squib cousin's father), as he was known to get tetchy with her at times.
"Come here!" he snapped, and Angelus followed his cousin closer to the yard wall, hopped over it, and gave his aunt a hug.
"Angelus, go play," said his uncle. Angelus wanted to stay, but he was a little afraid of this uncle. He peeked at the other wizard there, a tall man with light blond hair and a sharp face. He looked different somehow, thought Angelus; not like the men in his family, but Angelus was only a little boy and didn't fully understand the differences between a very wealthy man and one who makes writing material out of animal hides.
"Go on," his uncle nudged him as he lagged a little, suddenly curious. The grownups were acting like something interesting was about to happen—Angelus could feel it, damn it!
He hopped back over the wall and walked along it like he was absolutely going to obey, but once he'd passed the start of a hedge, the grownups began talking, and Angelus dashed into the space between the hedge and the end of the stone wall. He couldn't exactly hear what was being said, but he could see everything if he lifted himself up on his toes and gripped the edge of the wall with his fingers.
Angelus's uncle had drawn his cousin closer to the three adults, and he and the tall, strange man were making gestures towards her and talking seriously to one another. His aunt, who Angelus sometimes thought was also a bit afraid of his uncle, didn't seem to be saying anything, only watching the men talk with her arms clasped about her. She didn't appear happy or sad, or even angry. Angelus didn't know how to describe her expression.
At length, Angelus's uncle pushed his cousin in front of the stranger who reached out and held her chin in his fingers. Why was he doing that? wondered Angelus. He watched as the stranger tilted his cousin's head from side to side, then he released her and stepped closer to her father. His cousin looked as confused as Angelus felt.
He continued to watch, and after a while his aunt put a hand on his cousin's arm and led her into the barn where she lived (Angelus knew his Squib cousin wasn't allowed inside houses). When he could no longer see the two women, Angelus turned his attention back to the wizards. One of them had conjured a clipboard, which his uncle was writing on while the stranger opened a leather bag and was silently counting out coins. The men finished their individual tasks and spoke in assuring tones to each other, nodding with satisfaction and shaking hands. Angelus watched the stranger walk in the direction of the barn while his uncle strode back to his house, several gold coins glinting painfully from the sunlight, clinking loudly even to where Angelus hid, trying to understand what he'd just witnessed.